Lost
by I SingOnly4MyAngel
Summary: A collection of vignettes about the loss of a child.


Images floated through her mind as she felt herself drifting through some expanse of dreams. The smile she and Phoebe had shared when Sibella finally told her the news, the gentle kiss Monty had given her when she announced it to him in the study, the way his eyes had lit up beyond belief when she was certain it was his. Phoebe's small but loving hands on her stomach, Monty's arm wrapping around her, even in his sleep assuring her that he would not let anything harm their child. The morning they had all remained late in bed, drinking tea in mugs, marveling at the tiny piece of life inside of her. The day she had fallen into tears and at last confided in them her fear that she would not be a good mother, the strange but wonderful feeling of her curved stomach beneath her fingers.

Lovely memories blurred together, interspersed with periods of only darkness. But somehow, Sibella had the sense that something was not right.

Sibella lay in bed, pale and motionless. She had not regained consciousness since Monty and Phoebe had found her in the hallway.

"Monty, I'm frightened," Phoebe whispered. Monty reached out to take her hand.

"She'll be alright, I promise."

The brunette shook her head. "We have no way of knowing that, and Doctor Brownlee isn't so sure either, what if she's not? What if it's… What if she doesn't wake up?"

"Phoebe, you mustn't talk that way."

"But Monty, I... I don't know what I'd do without her." Her eyes were wide and sad as she looked at her husband.

"I don't know what either of us would do without her," he replied softly.

"I don't know if I could... She's come to mean so much to me, and I-" she broke off as she began to cry. "I don't want-" There was a lump in her throat and tears spilled over her bottom lashes. Monty placed a gentle hand on her cheek, his thumb wiping at tears that were replaced with new ones almost immediately. He stood from his chair and pulled her up from her place on the bed, taking her in his arms as she sobbed.

"It's because of you our child is dead!" Lionel shouted at his wife across the bedroom.

"No!" exclaimed Sibella. "You think I would have voluntarily-"

"It doesn't matter if you say you would or would not have, you did!"

"I did not! It nearly killed me!"

"Oh, I'm sure-" he began to say sarcastically, but Sibella cut him off.

"Lionel, I nearly _died!_ " He paused, momentarily considering her words, finding her to be in earnest, and not over-exaggerating as he had initially thought. "Oh, did no one tell you that?" she spat venomously.

"You what?" he questioned, his rage dissipating.

"Yes, while you were off on business, Countess Navarro asked me to stay with she and the Earl at Highhurst. She was worried about me, bless her. And it's an awfully good thing she was," her words dripped with contempt. "Because two nights into the fortnight's stay, I woke up in the middle of the night with this tremendous, inexplicable _pain_. I blacked out trying to get to Monty and Phoebe down the hall, they found me on the floor, covered in blood, and I didn't regain consciousness for _eighteen hours_." Lionel stood in horrified silence as Sibella blinked back tears. "After I woke up, Phoebe took my hand and she... I have never seen her weep like that. She said to me that-" she fought to speak through the sob building in her throat. "He had instructed them to prepare for the worst. He- Doctor Brownlee- seemed genuinely surprised to find me breathing when he returned the next day."

"Sibella-" Lionel began apologetically, but again she spoke over him.

"He told me that had things not gone as they did, had I not m-mis…" she wiped angrily at the tears falling from her eyes, unable to speak the next word. "I would have lost the child anyway, and I might have gone with it, due to almost inevitable complications that would have arisen during labor." Tears dripped off her bottom lashes and ran in tracks down her cheeks. "He said that another pregnancy could prove fatal," she whispered.

Monty entered the drawing room quietly, thinking that Sibella might have fallen asleep on the sofa where he had left her. He smiled for a moment, seeing her still lying on the sofa, turned on her side to face the back of it. But his smile quickly faded as he realized that she was not asleep. He saw that her shoulders shook, and he could hear her quiet sobbing.

"Sibella?" he called softly from across the room. The woman turned her head to look at him, and he saw that her eyes were rimmed with red. "Oh, my love," he murmured as he began to cross the room toward her.

"Please, just leave me be." Her words stopped him momentarily, and his expression shifted from concern to confusion. He started to step closer to her, but she stopped him again. "No, don't." She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest.

"Sibella?" he questioned, upset and worried.

"Please just go away," she said softly. Monty stood helplessly in the middle of the rug.

"Why?" he asked after a moment. Sibella tilted her head back toward the ceiling, trying to control her tears.

"Because I can't see you."

"You can't… Why not?" He was afraid that he had done something to offend her.

"Because… Because I'm so terribly sorry." Her voice was tight with tears, falling despite her best efforts to hold them back.

"Oh, my dearest love. Don't you ever apologize to me for this. Not to me, not to Phoebe, not to Lionel, not to anyone. Because it is not your fault, you did not cause this."

"But I feel so responsible. I wanted this, we wanted this. And you would have made such a wonderful father," she sobbed. "Don't pretend you're not heartbroken, I know you are. You and Phoebe both."

"Heartbroken we may be, but we do not blame you. And you mustn't blame yourself. Even Doctor Brownlee said there was nothing that could have been done. We may be sad, but that is exponentially overpowered by the gratefulness we feel that you are still with us."

"But I… I just…" She collapsed into herself, too overcome by sobs to be able to speak any more. Monty stepped cautiously across the rug toward her, kneeling in front of the sofa. He paused awkwardly for a moment before hesitantly reaching out to take her hand.

As she looked up and saw him so near, saw the expression in his eyes- so full of sadness and concern- she gave up and practically threw herself into his arms. Draped across him, half on the sofa, half in Monty's arms, she sobbed into his neck, the fabric of his shirt quickly growing damp. But he made no protestation, he simply held her tight, blinking tears from his own eyes.


End file.
